


shining through the night

by gilligankane



Series: you can tell everybody this is your song [43]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 80's Music, F/F, Mixtape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-16 19:57:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21503599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gilligankane/pseuds/gilligankane
Summary: “Hey, Sheriff. It’s Shorty.”Nicole is already closing the open folder on her desk. “Those Hardy boys hanging around out front again?”Shorty chuckles. “No. Think they got the hint the last time. No, this is about the lights.”
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Series: you can tell everybody this is your song [43]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/819408
Comments: 25
Kudos: 277





	shining through the night

**Author's Note:**

> Can I leave this AU alone? No. No, I cannot. Anyway, we’re back at it again.
> 
> The year is 2013 and I can make no apologies except this: I’m sorry.

**“Turn on Your Light” Judas Priest, 1986  
** _If you'll just turn on your light, let me see it shining through the night_

Nicole looks up from the report she’s writing - a couple of out-of-towners who “couldn’t read their speedometer” - when Alice slips into the room, pulling her headphones off her ears and letting them hang down around her neck. Nicole can see the cord that loops around the front of her open leather jacket, disappearing into her front pocket where Nicole knows Alice keeps her phone. 

“Is it really 3:00?” Nicole rubs at the back of her neck. 

Alice drops her backpack on the couch, landing on it in a huff. “No. It’s 3:15. Clootie made me stay after.”

“What for?”

Alice shrugs a shoulder, wrestling with the zipper on her backpack. “I don’t know. Something stupid. Anyway,” she rushes on. “Aunt Waves dropped me off and told me to give you this.” She hands Nicole a bottle of Orange Crush. “And to remind you that you said you’d be home in time tonight. Aunt Chrissy is coming over.”

Nicole takes the bottle, cracking the seal and taking a drink. “She says that like I’m ever late.”

“You were the last time.”

Nicole aims her pen in Alice’s direction. “That was your mom’s fault.”

Alice reaches into her backpack again, pulling out a notebook and fishing out a pen from the bottom of the bag. “It’s always Mom’s fault.”

Nicole sighs softly. “Alice.”

“It’s fine,” Alice says quickly. “I know you’re on her side.”

“I don’t choose sides. But she’s right. You’re not old enough to be driving a motorcycle on your own.”

Alice’s forehead wrinkles. “But you’re not taking sides, right?”

“First of all,” Nicole says sharply. She softens her voice, ducking her head to catch Alice’s eyes. “It’s illegal, to start.”

“But I’m _experienced_.”

“And you can get your license when you’re 16.”

Alice huffs. “I’m _almost_ 16.”

“You’re not 16 yet.” Nicole sighs softly. “And any time you want to stop growing up, I’d like that. Makes me feel old every time I think about how you’re 15. Fifteen. How did that even happen?” 

She remembers holding Alice for the first time, slipping on a pair of headphones and singing “Sweet Child O’ Mine” to her in that hospital room. She remembers putting bandaids on her knees when she was learning to ride a bike. She remembers the first time Alice sat in her cruiser and turned the siren on. She remembers every birthday and every year wishing that Alice would stay this small. 

But Alice is growing up, and every inch of her is so much like Wynonna that sometimes Nicole feels 11 again, trying to teach an impatient Wynonna how to swim. 

“Listen. I _promise_ , the second you turn 16, I’ll help you fill out the paperwork to get your official license, okay?” Nicole flicks a stray paper clip in Alice’s direction. When Alice scowls at her, Nicole smiles back. “But this whole ‘stealing your mom’s keys and taking the bike for a joyride’ thing can’t happen. Favorite aunt or not, I’m still the Sheriff, kiddo.”

Alice sighs, slipping down in her seat a little. Her legs stretch out, nearly reaching the legs of the chair Nicole keeps in front of her desk. “Fine. I guess.”

Nicole dots a few i’s on her report and tucks it into a file folder, placing it on the corner of the desk so the edges match up before she opens another one. “So how did you do on your math test?”

Alice brightens just a little. “Crushed it, I’m sure. Mom made up this studying game where I get a dollar for every right answer. It goes into my ‘Get a Motorcycle’ jar.” She scowls a little. “But she takes away two quarters every time I get an answer wrong.”

Nicole fights a smile. “Smart idea.”

Alice nods eagerly. “My teacher says there’s a chance that if I keep up my grades, I can get a good scholarship.”

“You can do it.” Nicole node, sure of herself. “You’re kind of brilliant.”

“For Wynonna’s daughter, right?”

Something in Nicole’s stomach tightens. “For anyone. And your mom is smart. Really smart. She’s just not school-smart, and that’s okay. She’s still one of the smartest people I’ve ever known.”

“Clootie says she was a menace. Says I probably am, too.”

Nicole rolls her eyes. “Ms. Clootie was a menace. I don’t know how she’s made a career out of working with kids. I’m not sure she even likes them.”

The phone rings, and Nicole holds up a finger to Alice before she picks it up. “Sheriff.”

“Hey, Sheriff. It’s Shorty.”

Nicole is already closing the open folder on desk. “Those Hardy boys hanging around out front again.”

Shorty chuckles. “No. Think they got the hint the last time. No, this is about the lights.”

“Lights? I can call Public Works for you if you want.” Nicole scans through the town directory she keeps in the top drawer of her desk. “Or I can give you their number.”

“No, no. I’m talking about the neon lights, the ones inside.”

_Neon lights_. 

Nicole swallows against the dry feeling in her throat. “What about them?”

Shorty breezes through like he doesn’t know Nicole is suddenly still in her seat, her free hand falling to her desktop. “There’s a fellow up from Edmonton here to replace them, and I was wondering… Do you want the old ones?”

“Do I-“

She does. Of course she does.

“Are you sure?”

Shorty laughs again. “Of course I am. Would save me the disposal fee, too.”

“Then, yes. Of course.” Her tongue trips over the words a little. “When?”

“Got time now?”

She’ll make it. It’s been a slow day. One of the York kids kicked off this morning when he ended up trying to take the chicken outside of the grocery store when he should have been in school, but Conlin had Kyle come and pick him up and that was that. It’s been a paperwork and patrol kind of day, and Nicole can duck out an hour early for this. _Especially_ for this. 

“Yeah, give me a few to set up the night shift and I’ll be over.”

“Take your time, Sheriff.”

Nicole hangs up the phone slowly. The lights. He’s offering _her_ the lights.

“What is it?” Alice twirls a pen in between her fingers slowly, going back to the doodle Nicole can see she’s working on in one corner. “You look like someone told you that they bought you a hundred copies of _Knee Deep in the Hoopla_ or something.”

“This is better.” She stands up and tucks her things away. She can finish the weekly output report tomorrow, before she meets with her deputies to review the numbers. She doesn’t _really_ need to finish it tonight. And she’s already met up with Noah Thorton this week, to go over the new park project the Blue Devils are going to start. She’s squared away the minutes for the last Neighborhood Watch meeting, and she’s prepped all the materials for the presentation she’s doing for Rand’s class the week after. She called Tabor’s Motel and paid off that last room she used for a drifter named Todd who was passing through looking for a fix. 

If anything, she’s ahead on the week. Leaving an hour early isn’t going to make a difference. 

“Kate,” she calls out into the bullpen. 

Kate Riley sticks her head into the doorway. “Oh, hey, Alice. Didn’t see you slip in.”

Alice flushes just a little on the flat of her cheeks. “Uh, yeah. I was- Well, you were- Uh, busy. You were busy.”

Kate smiles widely. “Holler next time, okay?”

“Sure,” Alice stammers. 

Nicole stares at Alice for a long moment before she looks back at Kate. “I’m headed out early for the night. Think you can hold it down until Lonnie comes in?”

“Sure can do, Sheriff.” Kate winks at Alice. “Probably best if you head home anyway. I heard Waverly talking about you being late for dinner one day last week.”

Nicole groans. “That was Wynonna’s fault.”

“An A,” Alice says loudly. 

Nicole lifts an eyebrow slowly. Kate’s smile flickers a little. 

“I got an A,” Alice clarifies. “On my math test. I… I think.”

“That’s great!” Kate reaches out and knocks her fist into Alice’s shoulder. “See? I told you that you had nothing to worry about.” She looks back at Nicole. “We’ll be fine, Sheriff. Honestly.” She ducks back out of sight, headed towards her desk. 

Nicole turns to Alice slowly. “What was _that_?”

Alice groans, holding her hand up to her face. “I have _no_ idea. She’s just… whenever she speaks to me, I just turn into… into that.”

Nicole grins widely and grabs Alice around the neck, pulling her into her side. “You’ve got a crush, kid.” She pauses. “You know, you do the same thing every time Brendan Thompson comes through the Patch.”

“Whatever,” Alice grumbles. She elbows Nicole gently. “Are we getting out of here or what?”

“You think they’re aces,” Nicole sings.

“And you think you’re funny, but you’re wrong.” Alice slings her backpack over one shoulder. “Are we going, or what?”

Nicole grins wider and pushes lightly at Alice’s shoulder, out of the office and into the bullpen. She waves at Pine and Riley, cuffs Conlin on the shoulder as he passes, and nods at Danny, the dispatcher, before she heads for the parking lot. 

Alice climbs up into her Bronco like she’s already been riding shotgun. Nicole remembers the first time she was in there, just cleared to be out of a booster seat, in the parking lot of the Patch. She’d stared at the dashboard in wonder, looking at all the lights and the knobs. Nicole taught her which button did what, letting her flip the sirens on and off until Bobo came out of the kitchen, waving a spatula at them. The lights and sounds still get her now, even if Alice would never admit it to her. 

She’s Nicole’s Cool Rider. The passenger seat is practically her birthright. 

“So, where are we going?” Alice opens the glove compartment and starts rifling through the CDs there, trying to find one she likes. 

It makes Nicole a little sick to her stomach, knowing she can’t just pop in a cassette. But Alice had given her a stack of CDs for her last birthday, one for each of Nicole’s favorite car cassettes, and while they didn’t sound the same, they felt better than nothing. 

Alice picks Asia and pops it in. 

“Shorty’s.” Nicole pulls out of the parking lot and aims her car down Main Street. “He’s got something for me.”

“Can I play skee-ball while we’re there?”

Nicole pulls up into a parking space next to the sidewalk. The bike rack there is starting to lean to one side, the pipes mostly rusted. She adds it to her list of Things the Blue Devils Can Do - it’s always growing and so are they. 

“Sure,” she throws at Alice. She fishes her wallet out of her pocket and tosses it to Alice. “Just leave me enough for gas.”

Shorty’s is still the same it’s always been. It still smells like wood cleaner and French fries. There’s an electricity to the air, and it feels like every song that plays over the speakers is going to be one that she knows. 

Shorty shouts at her from across the rink, waving her over. 

“If you win the big teddy bear, you have to give it to Waverly.”

Alice rolls her eyes. “What, so she can give it to Mac?”

Mac, now. Not Styx. Nicole feels a small pang that always comes when she thinks about Styx. But then it fades into something else; something warm. It makes her think about meeting him for the first time and bringing him home; about his bed in the Patch and in Nedley’s office; about the way he slept in Alice’s room sometimes and how Wynonna would feed him bacon under the table; about their long walks and drives to Moose Lake; about how he lived out each of his last days surrounded by his big, brown teddy bear with its pink bow and his family. 

He lived a good life. He was a good boy. 

But Mac is her own kind of good, and she loves every time a Stevie Nicks song comes on. 

Nicole shrugs. “She’s getting a little too big for that moose your Grandma got him.” She points at the big teddy bear hanging from the top of the prize counter. It’s white with a blue bow. “She’d like something like that, I think.”

Alice zeroes in on it with sharp eyes. “Then I’ll get it.”

Nicole walks across the rink floor carefully, hoping her boots don’t leave too much dirt and grime behind that Shorty will have to wash and wax the floor like he did when Champ Hardy tracked mud from Johnson’s farm across it. It’s a slow walk, but her whole body shakes the closer she gets to where he’s standing, holding a ladder for someone unplugging the old neon signs. 

“As soon as I decided to replace them, I knew who I thought might want them.”

Oh, does she want them. 

“I appreciate it.” Nicole looks up as the lights flicker off. The neon still hums, a quiet buzz she can just hear over one of the Top 40 songs playing on the speakers. “I’m surprised they’ve lasted this long.”

Shorty looks up. “Oh, I’ve repaired them over the years. Replaced the neon a few times, but they’ve got these new signs out nowadays, and I figure it’s time to retire them.” He sighs wistfully. “Sad to see them go, if I’m honest. I feel like they’ve been here ever since I opened the place. But.” He claps his hands together loudly, the sound echoing in the empty corner. “They’ll be going to a good home.”

Nicole nods so hard her neck starts to ache. She rubs at it gingerly and smiles widely. “I’ll definitely take care of them.”

-

Nicole takes a deep breath, hand hovering over the electrical outlet. 

Outside the shed she’s claimed as her own, she can hear Doc and Alice talking. Mac is running around the yard; Waverly is probably throwing a tennis ball for her to chase. Wynonna is talking loudly with Chrissy - something about banking. She’s sure Rand is there with Waverly, chasing after Mac. 

But she’s in here, in the quiet with just the light from the small window above her old Bonneville backseat streaming in. She’s holding the end of the cord that connects to the neon sign, waiting. 

She’s not quite sure what she’s waiting for. 

Doc and Perry had helped her carry the sign into shed, hanging it carefully on the wall as Nicole made sure it hung straight and secure. Wynonna had made fun of her for it, shouting at Doc about bulging muscles and using his powers for good. Waverly had just stayed quiet, smiling as she brought Mac down to get the bear Alice had won for her. 

But now it was here and it was _hers_. 

She can’t turn it on yet. Not without a song first. 

The rows of cassettes stretch out in front of her. She scans them carefully, reading the spine on each case. She’s not sure what she’s looking for. Maybe Don Henley. Maybe Phil Collins. Each cassette bleeds into the next until she stops on Judas Priest. She finds the _Defenders of the Faith_ tape, running a finger down the base side of the case before she lands on the track she’s looking for. 

Wynonna would laugh. Wynonna would tell her she’s being ridiculous and dramatic and overly sentimental. Wynonna would also stand here in the fading light and listen to this song with her, if she asked. 

The opening notes of the song trickle into the quiet space, and Nicole’s heart starts to beat in her throat. 

“ _Why do I have to wait so long before you come into my life again_.”

She picks up the cord again and holds it loosely in one hand. 

“ _I think you feel the same way, too. You know you make my dreams come true_.”

Nicole pushes the plug into the wall and hears the soft hum that comes with it. 

“ _If you'll just turn on your light, let me see it shining through the night_.”

“Wow,” Waverly breathes from behind her. She slips in against Nicole’s side, her hand around Nicole’s waist and her fingers in the waistband of Nicole’s uniform pants. “It looks just like Shorty’s in here.”

She’s not wrong. The floor might be a concrete pad and not polished wood, but the lights dance across it all the same.

She looks at Waverly and inhales sharply. She sees Waverly standing on Gus’s front lawn in her bathing suit. She can almost feel the sun beating down against her neck, and she swallows hard. She sees Waverly gliding across the Patch floor with the light behind her. She can see Waverly in the shadowy corner of the skating rink with the neon lights in her hair and in her eyes, and she breathes and she breathes until she gets a little lightheaded. 

She gets it now, the neon lights thing. 

“Oh,” she whispers. “Hi.”

Waverly smiles, amused. “Hey.”

Nicole brushes her thumb across Waverly’s cheek, her fingers curled at Waverly’s neck. “You look…”

She looks like their first kiss and the first time in the backseat of Nicole’s car. She looks like waking on a Saturday morning. She looks like late nights on the couch; like standing at the end of an altar, waiting for a wedding ring; like standing outside of Cal’s in the phone booth; like a high grass and a lawn mower. 

She looks like neon lights in the dark, and Nicole wants to hold on and never let go. 

“I love you,” she says instead. She smiles and nods softly. “Yeah. I love you.”

Waverly tips her cheek into Nicole’s hand and smiles back. “I love you, too, baby.”

Nicole leans in, her lips against Waverly’s forehead for a long moment. Waverly’s hand drifts to her waist, squeezing gently. 

“This is a terrible song,” Waverly breathes. 

“It’s _purposeful_.” Nicole rests her forehead against Waverly’s. “It fits.”

Waverly listens to a few more lines. “It’s a love song about a person waiting for someone else to come back.”

Nicole sways in place. “The lights have come back to me,” she argues weakly. 

“You’re such a sap.”

“But you married me,” Nicole sings softly. 

Sixteen years, and she’s not tired of saying it; of thinking about it. Sixteen years she’s been married, and now she’s here, in the dark with the neon lights on, swaying to an awful Judas Priest song. But if she listens hard enough, over K. K. Downing on guitar and just under the buzz of the neon, she can hear Journey and Van Halen and Belinda Carlisle. 

These lights are hers now. They’ll hang in this space - her space - and she’ll get to keep them here, with her cassettes and her Bonneville. The place where time stands still, Wynonna calls it. It’s just that it was the best time of her life, Nicole argues. It was Curtis and Gus, nights at the Patch, treasure hunting at their spot in the woods. It was getting her first car and standing on Gus’s front lawn with a boom box above her head. 

And now it’s neon lights and new memories, like kissing her wife - her _wife_. 

She sighs softly and presses the stereo off as the song comes to an end. 

“I left Wynonna in charge of entertaining Rand and Mac.” Waverly presses up on her toes, their lips brushing. “Ten bucks says that Mac gets tired before Rand.”

Nicole snorts softly. “Ten bucks says they both get tired before Wynonna does.” 

“I won’t take you up on that.” Waverly leans into her still, her hands skating up Nicole’s stomach, fingers resting against her rib cage. “Because then I’d be out of some hard earned money.”

“Still stealing teenagers' milk money?”

Waverly swats her in the side. “You’re confusing me for my sister.”

Nicole grins. “I always made her give it back.”

Waverly kisses her again, slow and sweet. When she pulls back, there’s blue and pink neon in her hair that Nicole gets lost in. 

“I’m going to go fire up the grill,” Waverly says quietly. “Take your time, okay? Whenever you’re ready.”

Because Waverly knows. Of course Waverly knows. She knows the way Nicole’s stomach is knotted in something warm and real. She knows because she _knows_ Nicole - all the good, all the bad, all the in between. So she kisses Nicole softly and slips out of the shed, calling for Mac as the door swings shut soundlessly. 

Nicole looks around. The Bonneville, the cassettes, the lights. All of the things she wanted when she didn’t know how to want them; all of the things she wanted when she knew she could almost have them. 

She unplugs the light and the neon dies down, leaving her with the muted red of the setting sun coming in through the small window. She takes a deep breath, letting it go slowly.

She can hear Wynonna laughing and Waverly shouting. She can hear Rand calling Mac’s name and Alice lecturing Doc. She can hear “When You Love a Woman” and “Love Walks In” and “High On You.” She can hear Mac barking, and it nearly sounds like Styx. She hears her family and she smiles. 

The neon lights buzz as she shuts the door. 


End file.
